


Context

by LJC



Series: Second Chances [8]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LJC/pseuds/LJC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody likes dress uniforms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Context

_Disclaimer: _Star Trek_ and all related elements, characters and indicia © Paramount Pictures / Bad Robot / Spyglass Entertainment 2009. All Rights Reserved. All characters and situationssave those created by the authors for use solely on this websiteare copyright Paramount Pictures / Bad Robot / Spyglass Entertainment 2009._

**Please do not archive or distribute without author's permission.**

Author's Note: Originally posted to [st_ix_kink](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink) ( except...I kinda fail at the voyeur kink part.)

**Context**  
by LJC

"It's like walking in on your parents having sex," Sulu had said to Chekov and Scott, just as Spock had entered Rec Room One. Spock had not heard the beginning of the conversation, but they had all winced and laughed uproariously at Sulu's comment. At the time, Spock had not understood this obviously commonly shared human reaction to the concept of happening upon one's elders engaged in coitus.

Spock now had context.

It was a bit disturbing.

"I hate this damn monkey suit," Admiral Pike was saying to an unseen companion as Spock had stepped into his offices on Starbase 12. The voice had come from the partially open door of the fresher, where the admiral was tugging at the tight collar of his dress uniform before the mirror.

Like several other deep-space vessels in the sector, the _Enterprise_ had arrived at the Starbase to re-provision. As First Officer, Spock was in charge of arranging the duty roster so that crew could take shore leave. He had intended to simply hail the admiral to inquire whether he would be available for a meal while they were in port. But at the last minute, Spock decided to visit in person, as Doctor McCoy often chided him for not following human protocols of courtesy.

In retrospect, he ought to have called ahead.

"Nobody likes dress uniforms," a woman's voice drifted to his ears and he stopped, remaining just inside the doorway as the captain of the _Yorktown_ stepped into view. "It's a universal constant. Like gravity."

She too wore Starfleet dress uniform, and it was a rare occasion to see his former commanding officer in green-gold uniform dress instead of the tunic and trousers combination she preferred.

"Oh, I dunno. I like yours just fine." Pike's hands drifted down over her shoulders to settle on her waist.

Spock was still hidden in the shadow of the entryway, and neither Pike nor his former exec seemed aware of his presence. He knew in that instant that modesty required him to either make his presence known or depart. But he remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the two officers he had not previously suspected to have any relationship outside of mutual respect and admiration, now engaged in an amorous embrace.

"We're going to be late," she said as Pike pressed a kiss to her jaw, his lips travelling down her neck.

"They can't start the commendation ceremony without the Sector Commander."

She laughed as his hand slid up the inside of her thigh under the skirt of her dress tunic. Her eyes drifted shut and her lips parted, pink tongue darting out to moisten them. Pike continued kissing her neck as she arched her back, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders tightly. Pike took a step forward, shifting them so she was sitting on the edge of the sink, poised on the toes of her shiny black boots.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked in a tone Spock recognised as teasing, and she sucked in a breath.

"Don't you _dare_."

The gold command dress tunic was now bunched around her waist, revealing plain cotton pants. Spock could see Pike's hand rubbing the damp cotton in tight circles over her clitoris before he slid his hand inside the waistband. The outline of his thumb was visible through the thin fabric as he slid two fingers inside her.

"Chris!" The name came out a hiss between her teeth. Her cheeks and neck were stained with a deep flush, as she threw her head back, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He had never witnessed her in such an emotional display before. While he had been under Pike's command, she had been nearly Vulcan in her poise, and reserve. The dichotomy of the woman from his memories versus the woman before him was startling.

"Right there?" Pike whispered against her ear, the words pitched too low for a human to hear from that distance but with Spock's superior Vulcan hearing, he was able to discern them easily.

She swallowed, nodding. Pike's hand continued to move, faster now and she turned her head so she could kiss him. She sucked hard on his lower lip as her chest rose and fell faster, in time to his movements. She pulled her mouth from his with a cry, his dress uniform creasing as she dug her nails into his shoulders.

"That's it, that's it," Pike whispered against her neck, shifting his stance so one leg slipped between hers. She rode his thigh as her hips rocked forward in time to the thrust of his hand. "Come on, come for me. Come on."

"Not... fair..." she managed between panting, gasping breaths.

His only response was to laugh, and drop down to his knees. She buried her long fingers in his greying hair as his hands slid up her thighs to draw her panties slowly down her legs. She leaned back against the mirrored surface, chewing on her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying out as his head moved between her legs. Her cheeks flamed red, and her dark hair, which had been neatly pulled back in a French twist, was now in disarray, tendrils falling to curl damply against her forehead and neck.

Finally her back arched and a long shudder went through her, her mouth opening and closing in silent cries, before she sagged against the mirror, her cheek pressed to the cool surface which fogged with each breath.

Admiral Pike slid up her body, a wicked grin on his face. "See? Plenty of time. Seven whole minutes, in fact."

"If the Tellarite captain claims he can smell me on you, I swear I will kill you," she said, leaning her forehead against his. "I won't even use a phaser. I'll use my hands."

He buried his face in her hair, and she laughed weakly.

"Seven minutes is _not_ long enough for me to return the favour and get us to the ceremony on time."

"Gives me something to look forward to all through what will undoubtedly be a long, boring dinner. Speaking of which—"

Spock slipped away, the sound of the running water covering the _swish_ of the automatic door.

He hoped.


End file.
